


When House is Bored

by gracefultree



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6746410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracefultree/pseuds/gracefultree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When House gets bored, he asks uncomfortable questions that he doesn't expect Wilson to answer... only this time, he answers and House has to deal with the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When House is Bored

“I’m bored,” House declared, handing Wilson a beer and throwing himself onto his couch next to him.  


“New Yankee Workshop not doing it for you tonight?” Wilson replied. “You’ve got the latest Monster Truck Jam on TiVo.”  


House waited until Wilson was swallowing before he spoke again. “Want me to suck your cock?”  


Wilson’s reaction was so much more than he could have hoped for. He spewed beer all over himself and the coffee table and started coughing loudly.  


“Hou— House!” Wilson exclaimed when he could breathe again.  


House met his eyes and shrugged. “Why not? It’d be more exciting than this.” He paused a beat. “And you’re cleaning that up,” he added, indicating the beer.  


Wilson scowled for a moment, then took another sip, this time without incident. His voice was deceptively calm when he spoke. “The bedroom would probably be easier than doing it here, right?” House frowned at him.  


“Seriously?”  


“Like you said, it’d be more exciting than this. Besides, what man in his right mind turns down a blow job?”  


“A _straight_ one?”  


Wilson shrugged, his eyes wide and innocent as he looked at House through his lashes. His long, far too beautiful for a man lashes…  


For the first time in a very long while, House couldn’t read Wilson. He couldn’t tell if he was being serious or screwing with him. He couldn’t tell if Wilson cared, one way or the other. His mind quickly went through all the possibilities, all the potential outcomes for doing it or not.  


There had been rumors about them being together almost as long as they’d both worked at PPTH, mostly fueled by his own loudly-spoken innuendos. What if this was Wilson’s way of getting back at him? Making him think he wanted to do it, get House’s anticipation up so he’d admit to wanting Wilson, then reject him? A way of getting back at him for years of pranks and stealing his food? What if it was Wilson’s way of saying yes, he did want something with House? The fact that Wilson was married didn’t even play into it. They both knew Wilson couldn’t be faithful, and House was enough of a realist to accept that if he did start having sex with his best friend that it would just be that — sex. There would be no romance, no roses, no relationship beyond what they already had, with a little sex thrown in.  


Could he handle that sort of thing? He’d always been a monogamous kind of guy, demanding it from his girlfriends and giving it with the seriousness he’d given his life to medicine. But Wilson was different. Wilson was… Wilson.  


There were a lot of things he’d do for Wilson that he wouldn’t do for anyone else…  


He imagined what it would be like to share Wilson with his wife and girlfriends. He imagined what it would be like if Wilson gave all that up for him. He imagined what it would be like if Wilson couldn’t keep to that promise, try as hard as he might. He imagined what it would be like for Wilson to grow bored with him. Could he handle that?  


But there was no guarantee that Wilson actually wanted sex. There was no guarantee that Wilson wasn’t screwing with him. Could he handle the rejection after admitting to Wilson that maybe he did want something more than they had?  


If he went into this expecting to be rejected, it wouldn’t hurt as much…  


He decided to call Wilson’s bluff.  


“Come on, then,” he said, putting down his half-finished beer and levering himself up. “You’re right about the bed being better than this thing,” he explained, tapping the side of the couch with his cane. He moved towards the bedroom. Wilson followed almost immediately.  


House felt something tighten in his chest when he heard Wilson’s footsteps behind him. He wanted this, he admitted. He’d wanted it for a long time, but hadn’t wanted to accept that. How does one accept that one desires one’s best friend? That one _loves_ one’s best friend? Because sexual or not, House loved him.  


But, God, he wanted the sex!  


He hadn’t had sex with someone who wasn’t a hooker since Stacy, and he hated that hookers had become his only sexual outlet aside from his own hand. Sure, he joked about it. He tried to pretend it didn’t matter. He knew it did matter.  


Loving Wilson… _showing_ Wilson that he loved him… It gave Wilson the opportunity to destroy him. Wilson knew how alone he was, knew how Wilson himself was all he had.  


He had to trust him. He had to trust that if it was Wilson screwing with him, Wilson would let him down easily.  


Once in the bedroom, he turned around to face Wilson. His eyes widened. In the short walk from the living room, Wilson had loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and started on the first few buttons of his shirt. They stared at each other in silence. Wilson took a step towards House and undid another button.  


“This is where you tell me if you were joking,” Wilson said softly. There was a catch in his voice, and House wasn’t sure what it meant. Was it desire? Pain? Expectation? Nervousness?  


Wilson undid another button, took another step forward. Three buttons left and two steps. House felt his mouth go dry. Two buttons and one step to go. “House?” Wilson asked. He undid both buttons but didn’t take the last step, and House realized that he was giving House room to take the step, to show that it wasn’t a joke, to decide if he wanted this or not.  


“Do you want it to be a joke?” House managed in a choked voice. He couldn’t take that step. He couldn’t put himself out there like that, be vulnerable like that. Not even with Wilson. He’d done more than he thought could already, just inviting Wilson to his bedroom, and he’d reached his cut-off point. He closed his eyes, fearing the rejection. He’d done all he could do, and it wasn’t enough, and —  


Wilson rested his palm against House’s cheek and stroked his stubble with his thumb. Instinctively, House slapped his hand away. The burst of hurt in Wilson’s eyes startled him, but the mask of playfully indifferent friendship took its place almost immediately. Wilson chuckled ruefully.  


“You got me, House. For a second there I thought you meant it.” Wilson gave him a half-smile that House knew was fake. He turned to leave the bedroom.  


House felt his heart breaking like it did when Stacy left, only this time he wouldn’t have Wilson to put him back together. He couldn’t live through that. He knew it.  


“Wait, Wilson,” House called, though his voice wasn’t loud. His chest hurt. He felt panic coursing through him. Wilson ignored him. “James,” House said, and he knew there was a slight pleading tone to his voice. He didn’t care. Wilson’s head tilted, indicating that he was listening.  


“I wouldn’t be able to go on, if you left me after this.”  


Wilson turned back, and House could see the coldness in his expression. “I’m not a toy to be played with,” he growled.  


“I’m scared,” House admitted, knowing that honesty was the only thing Wilson would respect. Whether or not he’d believe House was being honest was another problem, but he’d cross that bridge when he got there. Wilson took a half step backwards, frowning at House’s unusual openness about his feelings. “I’m scared that I just ruined everything with a stupid joke. I’m scared that part of me wants to pretend that it was a joke and another part desperately wants it to be real.”  


“You’re scared,” Wilson whispered, slightly incredulously. House gave a curt nod. “I don’t care if you’re gay, or bi, or whatever. I’m still your friend.” He paused. “But we have a problem.”  


“What’s the problem?”  


“Bonnie thought we were having an affair,” Wilson said, making House’s head spin. Why was he talking about his ex-wife? “Julie wouldn’t be surprised if we were, though she hasn’t accused me of it yet.”  


“Your point?”  


“I could fall in love with you so very easily. Terrifyingly easily.”  


“It’s terrifying to think of loving me?” House asked, the hoarseness back in his voice. He felt himself closing up, building up his barriers again, and he knew Wilson could tell. _God,_ he cursed to himself. _Please help me do this!_  


“I watched you push Stacy away. I’ve seen you disappear into yourself for no reason I could figure out. I’ve seen you be vicious and mean when you’re hurting.”  


“And yet you stuck around,” House pointed out. “Why?”  


Wilson paused, and House tensed.  


“You see who I really am,” Wilson answered. “You cut through all the bullshit and make me be myself. You don’t accept anything else. No one else in my life has ever done that.” He shifted on his feet. “I’m tired of always having to be the nice one, the respectable one, the one they all expect. Maybe I want to live on the edge for a while? And I think I see as much of you as you’ll let me, maybe better than anyone else. Better than Stacy ever did, I think. Better than Cuddy.”  


“And yet you stuck around,” House repeated. “Even though you know how much of an asshole I am.”  


“I stuck around,” Wilson confirmed. “I’ll keep sticking around, whether your offer was a joke or not.”  


“It was a joke,” House whispered, the truth falling from his lips without thought. He knew he had to play this correctly, but how? How much of the truth did he use? How did he fix this? “At first,” he rushed to say when he saw Wilson’s expression. “But it became real.” He looked away. “I’ve always been attracted to you,” he added. “Ever since we met.” Wilson stared at him, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “I didn’t want to admit it,” House muttered. “You’re my friend. Sex would fuck it up. But I’ve always been attracted to you, always wanted you.”  


Wilson chuckled ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, too, huh?”  


House’s head swung around, his mouth open in shock. “What?”  


Wilson nodded, coming back to stand in front of him. “I didn’t admit it until after the infarction. Bonnie accused me of having an affair with you, and the idea wouldn’t let me go. I kept picturing it, picturing us… But there was no way you were ready, so I didn’t say anything. Hell, I wasn’t even ready, though I was thinking about it.”  


“So Julie’s, what, a beard?”  


“Had to do something. I thought you were straight.”  


“You were meant to,” House snapped. He took a step backwards and sat on the side of his bed. “I have so few friends, I don’t make a habit of banging them. I wouldn’t have any left when I managed to destroy it. And don’t tell me I wouldn’t, because we both know I destroy everything I touch.”  


“But because you’re you, you pushed with your jokes and innuendoes and sexual comments anyway. Because you can’t stop yourself.”  


House shrugged, glad Wilson hadn’t focused on his comment about destruction. There would be time enough for that later.  


“What made you say that tonight?” Wilson asked, taking a seat on the bed far enough away that they weren’t in danger of touching unless one of them reached out.  


House shrugged again. “I was bored. It was a joke. I wanted to see what you would do with such a direct come on. But then you followed me and suddenly it wasn’t a joke and I got scared.”  


Wilson ran his fingers through his hair distractedly. “Are you bi? Have you been with a man before?”  


“I had a friend in med school. We fooled around sometimes. He was the only man I’d ever been interested in, so I put it into a file marked ‘Med School Folly’ and let myself pretend it hadn’t happened. Didn’t think it was anything to worry about until I met you and realized there were other men I thought were attractive.”  


“Crandall,” Wilson realized with a gasp.  


“Yes. What about you?”  


“I watched a lot of porn in high school. The gay stuff always intrigued me, but I never tried anything. I just assumed I was straight but curious. I had my first dream about a man —“ Wilson broke off and looked away. “My first dream about _you_ after that case we shared my second month at PPTH.”  


“Fevered Cancer Girl,” House mused.  


“You didn’t have your team yet. You dragged her into the showers to cool her down.” Wilson closed his eyes and gave a small shudder at the eroticism of the memory. He banged his fist against his leg. “You were completely soaked.”  


“I’d been wearing scrubs,” House said with sudden understanding. “God, you must’ve gotten an eyeful!”  


“I went home and gave Bonnie some of the best sex of our marriage, went to bed, dreamed about you, and had sex with her again the next morning. I convinced myself it didn’t mean anything. How could it mean anything when I was having such good sex with her?”  


House chuckled along with Wilson. Wilson spoke again.  


“We have to figure out what this is.”  


House shifted so he was facing Wilson. His expression was serious. “We could try the fuck-buddy thing,” he offered.  


Wilson shook his head. “You can’t do fuck-buddies. I know you too well. You’d get in too deep too quickly, like with Stacy.” House shrugged, admitting the truth of what Wilson said.  


“I hardly think twelve years is quickly,” House grumbled. “But you’re right about me not being able to keep it casual. That’s why God created hookers.”  


“House, I —“  


“Greg,” House whispered. “If we’re doing this, you need to call me Greg.”  


Wilson’s lips twitched into a smile. “Greg,” he said.  


House tried to answer with a smile and failed. “James.” He couldn’t help but look away. He felt exposed, raw.  


“Greg,” Wilson said again, softly, gently. He inched closer and touched House’s cheek, and this time House didn’t swat his hand away. “Look at me.”  


House squeezed his eyes shut as Wilson turned his head. He felt his breathing become shallower, his heart rate increase. He felt the beginnings of panic. Again. Wilson stroked his lips with his thumb. His eyes popped open to see the concern in Wilson’s brown eyes.  


“Are you ok?”  


House shook his head silently, closing his eyes again. He couldn’t look, couldn’t see that expression on his friend’s face. Wilson moved closer.  


“I’m going to kiss you,” Wilson said. “Please tell me if that’s ok.” House jerked his head up and down once. Wilson’s lips brushed his, just a quick press, and House responded in kind. They kissed again, chastely but passionately. House felt himself start shaking. Wilson edged closer so that he could slip an arm around House’s waist. House dropped his cane, grabbed him and held on, lowering his head so he could bury his face in Wilson’s neck. Wilson started massaging the back of House’s neck with the hand that had been on his cheek.  


They sat there holding each other for a long time.  


When House raised his head, his eyes were clear. “You’ll have to leave your wife.”  


“I’ll call my lawyer first thing in the morning.”  


“Just like that?”  


“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. I didn’t think it would ever happen, but I knew I’d want to move quickly if you offered.”  


“I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend, to treat people nicely,” House mumbled, fixing his eyes on Wilson’s shoulder. “You saw me with Stacy.”  


“As long as you don’t critique my sexual techniques while we’re figuring it out, you don’t have to treat me nicely. I’d get worried if you started.”  


“I’m going to try to push you away,” House continued.  


“And I’m not going anywhere,” Wilson declared. “We’re both going to fuck it up. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to be faithful.”  


“You stick your dick somewhere that’s not me and I cut it off,” House threatened. “Then I’ll shove it down your throat until you choke on it!”  


Wilson laughed heartily. “There’s my House!”  


House scowled. “I mean it,” he growled.  


“I know,” Wilson said, wiping his eyes. He leaned forward and pressed another kiss to House’s mouth. “I need that. None of my wives cared enough to threaten me.”  


“They don’t know what they’re missing.”  


“Like I said, they don’t really know me. They never looked beyond the good-boy exterior.”  


House opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. His eyes sparkled and his expression settled into a smirk. “So, top or bottom?”  


“Me?”  


“I bet you’re a bottom. I’m going to —“  


Wilson interrupted him with a kiss. They were lying half-naked on the bed when they managed to come up for air. House immediately started where he’d left off. “Greg?”  


“James?”  


“Shut up and fuck me.”  



End file.
